


May I Have This Dance

by itisunreal



Series: May I Have This Dance [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 21:11:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10794825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisunreal/pseuds/itisunreal
Summary: I just wanna dance with you.





	May I Have This Dance

**Author's Note:**

> don't own anything, yada yada

Trip hits the pause button, dropping his controller on the coffee table, and puts his hands out. “Rock, paper, scissors. Loser has to tell May.”

“Why can’t Hunter just tell her? He’s the one who brought the pizza after all.”

“Nope. This is how we always decide, it’s the fairest way.”

Begrudgingly agreeing, Skye joins the small group, and adds her hands to the mix. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

Throwing out scissors, Skye groans looking around at the others. “This is a conspiracy. There’s shouldn’t be so many rocks.”

“No one likes a sore loser, Skye,” Simmons points out, snagging a slice from the only opened box.

“Best two out of three?” she asks with a half grimace, eyes pleading.

“No can do, you lost fair and square.”

“She’s gonna kill me. I had to tell her last time too.”

Trip waves her off, moving boxes around until he finds the kind he wants. “She likes you, that’s why she won’t. You’ve got a better chance of survival than the rest of us.”

Skye stands, pout firmly in place as she glares at the rest of them. “Fine, I’ll go, but if I’m not back in ten assume I’m dead, and that she’s coming for you.”

 

* * *

 

Coulson slows at the kitchen entrance, knowing he’ll from her here. It’s her night in the dinner rounds, and she, if she’s anything, is a creature of habit. And habit dictates she’ll be here, just beginning to pull out her ingredients, piling and organizing along the shining counter. He hopes she hasn’t made it much further than that. The less that’s wasted, the better. She’ll be easier to convince that way.

Walking in, he spots her by the sink, sleeves rolled up as she peels potatoes, carrots stacked neatly, next in line. He steps to the side, sliding the thin box from under his arm into a clean spot on the counter. Then he waits for acknowledgment, knowing she can see him, probably heard him come in.

The minutes pass quietly between them, and just when he’s starting to believe he’s actually snuck up on her, she passes him a sideways glance.

“Are you going to stand there all night?”

“No.” He shrugs. “Just waiting.”

Finishing the potato she’s working on, she sets it aside, but doesn’t grab for the next one. Drying her hands, she appraises, eyes scrupulous in their quest, trying to gauge exactly what it is he wants.

He smiles at the way she narrows her eyes in question, but gives in before she can even voice it. “Dance with me.”

“What?”

Her mouth ticks up in a partial smile, and he takes it as a good sign. “Dance with me. Gotta break in the new base at some point.”

Taking her hand, he leads her away from the counter, to the middle of the room. He shakes his head as she tries to continue walking, but tugs her back until she’s standing in front of him. He places his hand on her hip, and leads them off.

“Dancing’s not really my thing.”

“Used to be,” he hums, keeping his head up.

“Times change.”

“You enjoy it anyway.”

“No.”

“I think you do.”

“No,” she bites out, gaze sharp, but not hard. He’s just pushing buttons, always pushing buttons.

“Little bit?”

“This conversation again?”

He raises his brows, patiently waiting for her answer.

She shrugs a shoulder half-heartedly, a small smile cropping up as she gives in. “Little bit.”

They gently rock, and she slowly surrenders, resting her head against his chest. Sometimes he wonders, in quiet moments like this, what their life could have been like if they’d left Shield when they’d originally intended. Before she drifted, and he died… before everything in their worlds went to hell and they spiraled from there.

His face scrunches at the memories, thoughts circling down darker paths.

“Phil?”

He looks down, and she’s staring up. “Yeah?”

“What is this?”

His mouth opens then closes it until he smiles, the perfect answer coming forth. “Impromptu date night.”

She rolls her eyes. “They’re going to be up here soon, you know.”

“Hunter brought pizza back with him, they’re probably fighting over who has to tell you.”

May huffs, shaking her head at their ridiculous antics. She’s not that scary. “Okay, then.” Placing her head back where it’d been, he slowly turns them around the room again, and her eyes grazed the flat box he’d _discretely_ brought in. And once more, it piques her interest. “What’s in the box?”

He dips her, a playful grin at his lips. “I told you. Date night. I saw it, and thought of you.”

“This isn’t sounding very impromptu.”

“It’s more of a... planned impromptu.” Waltzing them closer, he stops, and takes the box before handing it to her. But she doesn’t move to open it, just stares until he relents, spilling whatever it is he’s trying to hide. “I may have suggested pizza.”

She tries to look stern, but can’t stop a smile from invading her features as she shakes her head at him, and slides her fingers under the lid.

Backing way, Skye makes sure to move as silently as possible, using every stealth technique she’s ever been taught. Tip-toeing her way down the stairs, she skips the one that squeaks, and continues to sneak the rest of the way to her teammates.

“I call next.”

Simmons flinches in front of her, but the others just turn and watch her with expecting eyes.

“You tell her?”

Putting her hands in her back pockets, Skye thinks for a moment then shrugs. What was one white lie? “Yeah. Yeah, I did. She said we weren’t getting dinner anyway.”


End file.
